Rolling with the Punches
by DreRolling1
Summary: Sam and Callen must redefine their working relationship as Sam reinvents himself after an on the job injury leaves him paraplegic.
1. Chapter 1

Callen heard the sound as soon as he entered the building, and knew what Sam was up to. He stopped there, debating his next move; cross the threshold into the room Sam was working out in and disturb him, or turn around and leave, knowing Sam would stay in his own head until someone or something interrupted him. Just at that moment, the rhythmic sound of Sam's boxing gloves hitting the punching bag stopped, making Callen's mind up for him. Sighing, he put on a big smile and strode into the workout room.

"Hey partner! How's the workout going?" Callen knew he sounded fake, but he had to at least try to cheer his partner up. Still, he had to force himself to look Sam in the eye as the bigger man turned at the sound of Callen's voice, a scowl on his face.

"How's the workout going? Really, G? Is that all you got?" Sam looked near to exploding, and Callen couldn't blame him. He couldn't imagine the adjustment Sam had been forced to make, but he did know his partner, and he knew that having to relearn the world from a seated position was eating Sam alive. Sam took off his boxing gloves and put them in his lap, moving toward the corner where he'd left his gym bag. Putting the gloves in the bag, he slung it over the handles of his wheelchair and turned to go. To his frustration, Callen blocked his way, and Sam knew he wasn't yet good enough at maneuvering his chair to circumvent the barrier that Callen presented. "Fine," he said, scowling, "you wanna talk, then start talking."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Nate was waiting when Sam returned to Ops. He took one look at Sam's scowling face, and put his hands up in mock surrender. "This was not my idea, Sam. Blame it all on Callen. I do agree that we should talk, though. You've been through a big change–"

"Yeah. I have. And I'm handling it. I _don't_ need a shrink." Sam ran a hand over his clean shaven dome. "This was Hetty's idea wasn't it. I swear, one of these days I'm gonna pick up that little lawn gnome and…"

Nate wasn't about to let anyone speak ill of the director of operations here in LA, particularly with her eerie habit of appearing at the least opportune moments. He turned and headed for a room where he knew they'd have some privacy, Sam following close behind. "That's not fair, Sam. You know as well as I do, Hetty only wants what's best for you. Whatever's going to get you back to your old self as quickly and smoothly as possible. Now, we both know there's no way around this conversation, since she's not about to let you even _try _to go out on a mission unless you talk to me. So the only question is, where do you want to begin?"

"I don't." Sam ran into the door, using the front of his wheelchair to push it open so hard it banged against the wall. Nate caught the door on the rebound before it could hit him in the face. "But since there's no other choice, let's begin at the beginning. "

Nate looked at Sam curiously. "Sounds good to me. I've been left out of the loop regarding how you ended up in that chair. Care to enlighten me?" Leaning back in his chair, he crossed his arms and waited calmly for Sam to start spilling his guts. Sam closed his eyes, took himself back months in time, and started talking.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

When Sam opened his mouth and mind to tell Nate the story of his injury, he surprised both of them by not talking about that at all. Apparently that was a story that could wait; for all his conscious reluctance to talk feelings, to drop his Teflon Tough Guy act, Sam was struggling. It wasn't until he began talking to Nate that he understood both the fact that he was having trouble adjusting, and the reason for it.

"What do we do, Nate? Why are we here trying to get ourselves killed every day?" Nate shrugged, keeping silent to avoid breaking the spell that seemed to be allowing Sam to confide in him. "We help people, Nate. We get ourselves smushed and blown up and smeared on the pavement to ensure that those things don't happen to other people. We are the impenetrable wall between the people we protect and the big bad world out there." Sam shifted his weight in his chair, his eyes on the middle distance, mind both here and focused inward. Nate sat as silent as ever, waiting for Sam to be ready to continue.

"When you think about it that way, it's really not hard to figure out what's bothering me, is it?" Nate nodded almost imperceptibly. "How in the _hell_ am I supposed to Protect and Serve from this wheelchair, Nate?" The tempo Sam's breathing sped up to match the cascade of words from his mouth and brain. He actually started _fidgeting_, a sight which Nate would have sworn he'd never see.

"You know, Sam," Nate started to interject, "you don't have to take – ."

"I know, Nate. I know. It's not my job to protect the entire world. But it is my job to at least protect my family, my team, and the people we are sent to help. I'm a Navy Seal for God's sake! Infallible, immutable. Dependable. _Not_ weak and dependent. Not a _burden_," Sam's teeth were clenched now, "on everyone around me! How am I supposed to fulfill my sworn duty from this godforsaken _wheelchair?!"_

Sam got quiet as he remembered Callen's words, almost definitely handed down from Hetty and quite possibly from Granger himself. His hands stilled, his eyes drifted closed as he instinctively tried not to see the truth that was staring him in the face. He couldn't go out on a mission with his team until he came to see Nate. That was what Callen had said. Well he had followed Callen's orders, only now, instead of feeling ready to head out into battle, he realized the worst truth of all. "Nate," he whispered, "how will I ever go on another mission? What's going to happen to me now?" Before Nate could formulate an answer to a question he should have seen coming but didn't, Sam had turned around and left the room, leaving Nate in stunned and confused silence.

Returning to Ops, Nate knew he had to talk to Hetty, a conviction that was confirmed as soon as he saw her. "Mr. Getz. I trust you had a productive conversation with Mr. Hanna?" Nate could see the concern on Hetty's face plain as day. He wanted to reassure her, but wasn't sure if he could honestly do that.

"Yes, we did talk for quite a while. There are some things I'd like to discuss with you in private, regarding Agent Hanna's readiness to return to work." He used the words "in private" deliberately, knowing that Hetty would know that meant specifically without Agent Callen present.

As he expected, Hetty picked up on his nuanced response. "Very well, Mr. Getz. Meet me at the boat shed in an hour, and you can outline your findings for me." With that, Hetty turned and left to take care of other matters. Nate followed suit, but he knew he'd have trouble concentrating on anything else until he had had a chance to speak to Hetty.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

By the time she arrived at the boatshed, Hetty was even more concerned about Agent Hanna than she had been before. For Nate to say that he needed to talk to her about Sam in private raised grave concerns in Hetty about Nate's confidence in Sam's ability to rejoin his team, with or without his wheelchair. So, as G had done hours earlier, before she walked into the boatshed, Hetty paused, closed her eyes a moment, and took a deep breath, preparing herself for the worst.

"Alright, Mr. Getz, I'm ready. What are your findings regarding Agent Hanna?" Rather than taking a seat at the table where Mr. Getz had pulled up two chairs, Hetty chose to stand, her hands clasped behind her back. It made her feel more battle-ready. Nothing, however, could prevent her from pacing like a caged lion.

Nate made the well-considered decision to sit at the table. It put him nearly at the same eye level with the diminutive woman, and Nate wanted them on as equal a footing as possible. He knew that she would not take his posture as a sign of nonchalance on his part. Nate watched her a moment before beginning his report. "I don't know how something can be simple and complicated at the same time, but Sam has managed it somehow. He's definitely _not_ ready to return to fieldwork." Hetty nodded at that; she already knew it, but wanted to hear it from Nate regardless. But she also knew, because she knew Nate, that that wasn't the whole story, so she held her peace and let the man find his own pace. "Thing is, from everything I know about Sam, which was confirmed by what he said today, the only way for him to get to a point where he can be relied upon to keep anyone safe in the field, including himself, is for him to return to the field. Hetty, he's lost without this work. In his own words, he believes he is weak, a burden, dependent on those around him. So, the question is, is there a way to allow Agent Hanna to rejoin his team without allowing his presence to hamper their effectiveness?"

Hetty could see why Nate had excluded Callen from this conversation. Callen was not only Sam's partner, but also his friend. It would be difficult for Callen to resist a knee-jerk response of "of course there's a way" and Hetty and Nate both knew that such a reaction would be counter-productive in the extreme. It was a serious question: Could Sam be reintegrated into his team without jeopardizing their ability to do what they did? All this was in Hetty's mind as she replied to the psychologist. "I don't know, Mr. Getz, but I intend to find out. I have an idea, and I'm going to need the entire team's participation to make it work." Outlining his plan to Nate, Hetty took out her phone and sent a text to every member of the team except Sam. _Meet at the boatshed right now, _it said. _Don't tell Sam. _

By the time everyone arrived at the boatshed, they were abuzz with chatter about what could be going on that would require them to exclude Sam. Obviously they all knew his situation, but they also knew Hetty wasn't one to exclude anyone, whether they could be directly helpful to a mission or not. Fortunately they didn't have to wait long to find out. When they all had arrived, Hetty got right down to business.

"As you can see, Mr. Hanna is not present. I assure you, that omission is quite deliberate. Ladies and gentlemen, a member of our team needs our help, and we're here to see that he gets it." All chatter ceased with those words, and Hetty knew she had their full attention. They all cared about Sam a great deal, and were eager to help him in any way they could.

"Mr. Getz has expressed some doubts regarding Mr. Hanna's readiness to return to the field; doubts which Sam has indicated that he shares, although for different reasons. I need to ascertain whether our team member is ready to rejoin the team, and in fact whether he will ever be ready." She paused as the team erupted in protestations, but only for a moment. She put up her hand for silence, receiving it immediately. "I know you all want to see Mr. Hanna come back to us full strength, as do I. Mr. Getz and I agree; the best way to accomplish that, at this juncture, is to engage in a harmless ruse." With that, she outlined the plan she had hatched with Nate's cooperation.

"As you all know, Mr. Hanna was injured during a mission. So what we're going to do is go on another mission, one in which Mr. Hanna will participate." The team mates looked at each other skeptically, but kept quiet. They weren't sure how this would work, but knowing Hetty, she had it all figured out.

Hetty did not have it all figured out, but she would never let her team see that. The plan she and Nate had devised was not only impractical, it was impossible. In her wildest dreams, she couldn't concoct a story even close to the missions the team went on. She needed to rectify this situation and fast. Taking out her cellphone, she dialed Nate's number. He answered immediately.

"Mr. Getz. I've had a change of heart. It would be wonderful if we could contrive a mission realistic enough to fool Mr. Hanna and accomplish our goal, however in order to do that, we would need the cooperation of the terrorists, and we both know how difficult that is to secure." Hetty found humor wherever she could these days. "We're going to have to take a much more direct approach. As much as I never thought I would say this, I believe a group counseling session is in order. Please join us at the boat shed." Without awaiting a response, Hetty hung up on Nate and called Sam. After arranging for him to meet the rest of the team at the boat shed, she closed her phone, squared her shoulders, and headed there herself.


End file.
